


Servants of Love

by bonesofether



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Halloween, NSFW, mercykill - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-13 07:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21240563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesofether/pseuds/bonesofether
Summary: The secret, though requited, love between Count Gabriel del Reyes and the Witch of the Wilds finally blossoms one fateful night. But tragedy arrives with the break of dawn. One that can only be countered by magical means.





	1. A Count and his Witch

The night air was cold and still, with only the thinnest veil of fog lacing it. The shimmering haze wafted through like translucent curtains, clinging to anything in its path. And at the center of the murk was a massive, dark manor that pierced upwards towards the glimmering stars.

The manor’s blackened bricks seemed to emanate the gloomy fog, tendrils of it snaking from the surrounding cobblestones. It continued to reach out to the dark forest that encompassed the manor, fading only when it got close to the small town of Aldersbrunn. The town’s dim lights barely managed to hold off the encroaching mist, and seemed to be in the eternal shadow that the manor, nestled in the nearby mountains, cast.

However, despite the seemingly foreboding nature of it all, Aldersbrunn was still lively and bustling even at this late hour of the evening. Everyone was preparing for this year’s autumn festivities, whether by preparing foods or decorating the town itself. The celebration only occurred once a year, and the town went all out for their beloved fall tradition.

From his vantage point on the tower’s balcony, Count Gabriel del Reyes could see the town’s lights flickering as its inhabitants milled about. He couldn’t help but smirk a little, finding brief amusement in the town’s hustle and bustle. The Count supposed that he shouldn’t be too judgmental. If such an event kept the townsfolk happy, then that was all the reason needed.

Breathing out a long sigh, enjoying the cool breeze as it fluttered around him, Gabriel turned his gaze upwards to the starry sky. His expected guest was taking their time to arrive. While that was nothing unusual, Count Reyes couldn’t help but be a little concerned. Not only was the Witch of the Wilds a very busy woman, but she was also a rather infamous one.

The townsfolk didn’t take too kindly to those that could wield magic as deftly as the Witch could. She had long since been banished from the town and forbidden to do business within it. It was only through the Count’s presence and his assistance that she was able to get some of the supplies and produce that came through Aldersbrunn.

Gabriel certainly didn’t mind, however. The Witch was a most enchanting woman...and in more ways than just her magic. She made for the most pleasant, and beautiful, company. And it wasn’t as though the Count was particularly popular with the townsfolk, either. In fact, if Gabriel had to guess, the people of Aldersbrunn tolerated his presence more for the safety and economic stability that his presence, and those he associated with, provided.

“You’re going to catch your death of cold.”

Smile softening, Count Gabriel del Reyes turned to see the Witch of the Wilds as she glided forward atop her broomstick. Her luxurious, blonde hair was tied loosely back, and her dark, form-fitting dress fluttered in the breeze. Striding forward, Gabriel extended his hand to the Witch as soon as she drew close. She took it with a small smile, stepping down onto the balcony.

“It is a risk I am willing to take,” the Count crooned sweetly, bringing the Witch’s hand up to kiss the top of it, “if it means I can properly welcome you to my home.”

“You’re such a devilish charmer,” the Witch giggled, blush rising to her pale cheeks.

“Only for you, my dear.”

Sapphire eyes twinkling in the moonlight, the Witch favored the Count with another, more endearing smile. She couldn’t deny that he cut quite the striking figure. His ebony hair was, as always, neatly combed back, and his tanned skin was flawless, save for a few scars that flecked it. His strong, defined features caught the shadows, yet his dark brown eyes watched her with a warm gaze. And this evening saw him clad in a white, silken undershirt with a crimson vest over it. A black coat and matching trousers completed the look; and it was a look most fitting for the Count.

“I would hope so,” the Witch teased.

“Now then, my dear Angela, let us get out of this cold,” Gabriel offered, gently ushering the blonde sorceress towards the balcony’s lit doorway.

“That would be most appreciated.”

Once they were in the warm comfort of the manor, the Count looked back to Angela. The candlelight from the candelabras on the walls caught along her curves in the most flattering way. And she walked with the most graceful manner, her footfalls barely making a sound on the plush, red carpeting.

“Will you be staying long?” he asked, not bothering to hide the hopeful tone in his voice.

“Oh?” Angela raised an eyebrow as a smirk spread across her full lips. Her knowing glance flicked up to the Count, studying him for a moment. “Is that a question? Or a desire?”

“Both,” Gabriel replied without a moment’s hesitation.

“Well, then!” the Witch laughed, unable to help herself. She smiled up at the Count, blue eyes twinkling. “I certainly don’t want to disappoint. I can stay for a while, then. So long as I am able to leave before morning light.”

“Excellent!” the Count proclaimed. He continued to walk with the Witch down the hallway and towards the main hall. “At the risk of sounding presumptuous, I had dinner prepared for the both of us in the hopes that you would be able to stay.”

“Oh my.” Angela leaned up against the Count playfully. “My Count is such a gracious host.”

“I do try.” Gabriel then leaned over to Angela with a chuckle. “I don’t want to risk the ire of a witch, now do I?”

“Hmmm… Wise words from a wise man,” the Witch purred, pivoting suddenly so that she was standing right in front of the Count. She leaned up, teasing smile softening just a little. “Don’t want me casting a spell on you, now do you?”

The sudden closeness caught even the normally reserved Count Reyes by surprise. His breath snagged in his throat and he gazed down at Angela with wide eyes. She was barely a breath away from him, but had done so without a second thought. A part of him wanted to close that small distance, but Gabriel held back. Above all else, he didn’t want to overstep when it came to Angela.

Then the moment seemed to catch up with the Witch and she blushed profusely before ducking away. She had let herself get carried away, to give into those little strands of desire that awoke within her every time she was in the company of the Count. But he had always refrained from any sort of reciprocation, and Angela was never sure just how much of her affection would be returned.

“Ah, my...my apologies,” Angela whispered, shuffling back. “I...got a little carried away, it seems.”

“I don’t mind.”

Gabriel’s sudden, soft confession made Angela stop. She blinked up at him inquisitively, lips pursing slightly in thought. At the sight of blush tinging his own, tanned face, the blonde tilted her head to the side in wordless question.

“I mean…” For a moment, the Count trailed off, unable to find his voice, much less the proper words. But the opportunity, the chance, had presented itself, and he didn’t want to risk losing it. Drawing in a slow breath to compose himself, Gabriel gave the Witch a warm and reassuring smile. “If you are comfortable getting, er, carried away, that is… Then please continue. I most assuredly don’t mind. In fact, I…”

This time his voice faltered and Gabriel cleared his throat, nerves finally getting the better of him. He glanced away, only to have the Witch lean a little closer to him.

“You…?” she coaxed.

“...I welcome it,” Gabriel replied, more than a little embarrassed that his voice was hardly above a whisper at this point.

Though she knew she was blushing profusely by this point, Angela couldn’t help herself. She reached up and gently clasped her hand on the side of the Count’s face. Pulling his gaze back to her own, the Witch smiled up at him warmly. And though no words were spoken, he leaned in a little closer, stopping just before they would have met.

“My beloved Count Reyes is such a gentleman,” the Witch of the Wilds purred sweetly.

With that, and not wanting to waste another second, Angela closed the small sliver of space between her and Gabriel. Her lips caught his softly, and in an instant the dark-haired Count reciprocated. One of his hands tenderly clasped against the side of Angela’s face, while the other found its way to the small of her back. The faintest whisper of a contented moan escaped from her slender throat as the Witch’s delicate fingers clutched at the collar of Gabriel’s jacket.

“Gabriel…,” Angela whispered, her full lips fluttering against the Count’s.

“Hm?”

Though she briefly considered asking Count Reyes why he had never acted on such desires sooner, the Witch immediately dismissed such a thought. This moment was perfect. So there was no need to ruin it.

“Thank you,” the Witch finally breathed softly before pressing her lips against Gabriel’s for another, deeper kiss.

A pleased groan rumbled unbidden from the dark-haired Count as he leaned into the kiss. Desire taking hold of him, he pulled Angela closer, pressing her body against his own. She fit perfectly against him.

Taking the opportunity to lean against Gabriel, Angela reached up to rest her hand on the back of his neck. He made a pleased sigh in response, leaning down into her touch. He cautiously deepened the kiss, to which Angela was eagerly receptive.

Finally, once they had both thoroughly enjoyed the moment, Angela reluctantly pulled back a little. She blushed up at the Count, a shy smile playing on her ruby lips. A similar, contented smile was on his features, and he was giving her an unabashedly adoring look.

“Ah…”

“Perhaps we should, ah, go to dinner,” Gabriel chuckled softly. “Before it gets cold, that is.”

“Yes, of course,” Angela quickly agreed with a nod.

Though he stepped back by half a pace, Count Reyes then offered his arm to the Witch of the Wilds. Her smile broadened, blush remaining on her pale cheeks, before she happily took it. Leaning up against the Count, the Witch sighed happily and glanced up at him.

“I have to admit, I certainly hadn’t expected this delightful turn of events.”

“Well, if we’re being honest, neither did I,” the Count confessed. He then smiled warmly at Angela before quickly kissing her forehead. “Though I am most certainly not complaining.”

“Oh…! Neither am I.”

Upon arriving at the doorway to the dining hall, Gabriel promptly stepped forward to open the door for the Witch of the Wilds. He even went so far as to make a bit of a show of things by using a wide, sweeping gesture before bowing to the blonde sorceress. Giggling, Angela reached out and caressed the side of Gabriel’s face with a word of thanks before stepping into the dining hall.

A mouth-watering variety of smells greeted her, followed by the sight of an extravagantly decorated and food laden table. It was obviously set for two, with ornate china set at two of the eight embellished, plush, velvet chairs. For a moment, the Witch could only stare in pleasant surprise and quiet amazement at the delicious decadence. Then the Count stepped up behind her, gently taking her hand to guide her to her seat.

“Thank you,” Angela said sweetly as she watched Gabriel pull her seat out for her. Sitting down, she couldn’t help but look back to the table of food. “It all looks so good. And I know that some of these foods aren’t local. Where did you manage to find them?”

“My, ah, contacts are located all across this world,” the Count explained, choosing his words carefully. The Witch was well aware of the fact that the majority of his contacts were less than scrupulous people, but he saw no need to remind her of that. “So I have quite a few options when it comes to importing goods.”

“Well, send them my thanks, then.” Not bothering to hide her delight, Angela plucked up a pale pink apple from a large tray of fruit. “If I’m not mistaken, these are rose apples. They certainly are not native to here, but they _ are _ most certainly one of the most delectable fruits one could ever eat.”

“It seems that my bewitching company is most perceptive,” the Count commented with a grin. “You are correct that they are rose apples. And I must note my thanks to Queen Waters for providing them.”

“Queen?” Angela repeated with an inquisitive tilt of her head. “I thought she lived in a land where royalty is not part of their culture.”

“Ah, well… It is my way of referring to her. She is the leader of her people and, by my definition, a queen in every sense. Also, she doesn’t seem to mind the honorific, so it sort of remained after I accidentally called her ‘Queen Waters’ once.”

The two continued to converse over dinner about anything and everything that came to mind. It had been a long time since either of them had been afforded the time to engage in pleasant conversation. Especially with company that they actually enjoyed.

Finally, after desserts had been had and the clock had chimed that it was nearing midnight, Count Reyes leaned back in his seat with a contented sigh.

“I fear the hour is late, and it would be rude of me to keep my dear Witch of the Wilds awake for much longer,” he commented with a glance to the large clock at the end of the room. Gabriel then turned his attention back to Angela, who was favoring him with a small, rather coy smile. “Shall I show you to the guest room?”

“I would appreciate that,” Angela replied. She started to rise from her seat, but Gabriel held up a hand to stop her.

“Ah, ah… Allow me.”

With that, Count Reyes rose from his seat and quickly walked over to where the Witch was seated. She couldn’t help but giggle a little at how prim and proper he was being, but the formalities were appreciated all the same. Taking his hand when it was offered, Angela rose from her seat...and then snuck in a quick kiss to Gabriel’s cheek. The affectionate gesture caught him by slight surprise, making the dark-haired Count blush briefly before ducking his head.

“Ah… Th-thank you,” he murmured.

“No need to thank me for something I have wanted to do for quite some time,” Angela replied.

Though he didn’t reply, the warm smile that spread across Gabriel’s features was all the answer that Angela needed.

As Count Reyes walked the Witch up to the second floor of the manor, the blonde sorceress couldn’t help but look around at all the decorum. She had spent plenty of time within in the manor, yes, but rarely had she had the time to actually appreciate the decoration or architecture. It was all done to exquisite detail, from the engravings on the wall paneling to the paintings that adorned them. And, despite the fact that the shadows seemed to reach a little farther than normal, it was hardly unbecoming to the Witch of the Wilds. If anything, it was a detail she was rather fond of.

“I really should give you a proper tour of this entire manor someday,” Count Reyes commented, having noticed Angela’s wandering gaze.

“That would be nice,” the blonde woman agreed with a nod. She laughed lightly. “It seems that I never have enough time to spend here as I would like. One of the perils of my chosen, ahem, profession.”

“Well, you know that the doors of my manor are always open to you. Should you ever need accommodations, you need only ask.”

“Such a gentleman,” Angela said with a smile as she leaned against Gabriel affectionately.

Smiling down at her in response, the Count stopped when they arrived at a door to one of the guest bedrooms. It was made of dark red wood with golden inlay, and when opened, it revealed a large and luxurious bedroom. A vanity was off to one side of the bedroom, and the large, plush bed was even crowned by a lace covered canopy.

“Oh...my,” Angela whispered, not bothering to hide her amazement as she stepped inside and looked over the room with wide eyes.

“I hope it is to my lady’s liking. If not, there are other bedrooms available. Namely, all of them.” Chuckling at his own joke, Gabriel trailed off as his gaze was inevitably drawn back to the bewitchingly beautiful woman that stood before him. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to offer another option. “My own included.”

Pausing midstep, the Witch of the Wilds slowly turned to face Count Reyes. She studied him for a moment, noting that the hint of blush had returned to his face. Just as a smile was beginning to tug at one corner of her lips, Gabriel cleared his throat and shook his head.

“Ah, forgive me. I...misspoke. I-”

Whatever else Count Reyes was going to say was lost when Angela suddenly stepped forward and caught his lips with her own. His muffled noise of surprise dissolved into a contented groan as she deepened their kiss and one of her hands clutched gently at the side of his neck. As the last traces of his own hesitation faded, Gabriel caressed the side of Angela’s face while the other trailed down her side before coming to rest on her hip.

Finally, after thoroughly enjoying Angela’s wordless but far more romantic answer, Gabriel pulled back with a bit of reluctance.

“Shall I show you to them, then?”

“Yes, please.”

Unable to help but grin, Gabriel proceeded to guide Angela down the main hallway of the second floor. The master bedroom was obvious even before they actually got into it. The black, wooden, double doors, adorned with gold embellishments, were at the end of the hallway. In a rather convenient twist, moonlight poured down from the window nearest to it, illuminating the master bedroom’s entrance.

“I think I see it,” Angela teased.

“You’re perceptive,” Gabriel chuckled.

Upon arriving at the doors, the Count pushed one of them open, revealing the master bedroom. Its bed had its own canopy with sheer curtains, though the trappings were notably of darker, richer tones than the first guest bedroom had been. A large bay window that overlooked the forest below was off to one corner of the bedroom, while another door led to the master bathroom. A large wardrobe had been built into one of the walls, and a large, full length mirror was beside it.

It was most certainly a bedroom befitting of Count Reyes.

“Very impressive,” Angela purred, taking a step forward. She smiled up at Gabriel. “Even darkly romantic, to a degree.”

“You think so?”

There was no missing the mischievous glint in Gabriel’s eye, and, before Angela could actually walk into the bedroom, he stepped forward and effortlessly scooped her up. The sudden action earned a surprised squeak from the sorceress that quickly dissolved into a delighted giggle. Count Reyes then dipped his beloved witch back slightly, smiling down at her before kissing her softly.

“Could always use a bit more romanticism, now couldn’t we?”

“Oh, yes. Undoubtedly so.”

Chuckling at the answer, Gabriel then carried Angela across the doorway threshold and to the center of the room. Carefully setting her down, Count Reyes looked down at his guest with an abashedly adoring gaze. Angela still seemed enraptured with the entirety of the moment and everything that had just transpired, and it made her all the more endearing to him.

Catching the gaze, Angela returned the smile and leaned up to kiss the Count sweetly. She took his hands with her own, and gently pulled him back towards the bed. Gabriel needed no further coaxing, following the blonde’s wordless ushering with a soft, knowing smile.

* * *

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the Count or the Witch, the people of Aldersbrunn had gathered in the town square. Word had spread that the Witch of the Wilds, a known threat to the townsfolk, had been seen traveling to the manor of Count Gabriel del Reyes. While everyone had had their suspicions about the Count and those that he dealt with, nobody had ever been able to actually prove anything.

But now they had the word of a paladin. Or rather, someone who claimed to be a paladin. But the blond swordsman who called himself Darrows had had all the skills and stubbornness needed to convince the townsfolk. Already they had sent out a call for a gunslinger who had been known to take down some of the monsters that lurked in the forests. They could only hope that Van McCree showed up in time.

The townsfolk, however, were determined not to sit idle. Already assembled in the town square, they were listening as the paladin retold the horrors that he had seen magic wielders similar to the Witch of the Wilds bring to life. Each one seemed more terrifying than the one before it.

“You already know that such creatures have no qualms about breaking the very laws of Nature herself,” he shouted, pacing back and forth before the crowd with gleaming sword in hand. “Would any of you want her turning such ruthlessness against you? Or those that you love?”

“No!”

Grinning wickedly at the answering chorus, Darrows continued.

“Not only have you had to suffer life with this fiend’s presence, but you have been forced to live under the shadow cast by a thoughtless count. One who would put you all at risk for his own benefit!” Pausing for a moment, the paladin looked over the crowd. They were all staring at him with expectant, wide-eyed gazes. Gazes that told him he had them just on the edge of a frenzy. One that they were all too ready to be whipped up into. So, clearing his throat, Darrows continued. “But now! Now you have been given the chance to free yourselves. Of not one, but both threats! Would any of you dare not defend your home?!”

“Never!”

Unable to help but mutter the word ‘perfect’, under his breath, the paladin pointed his sword up to the moon that hung in the night sky.

“Then at dawn, you take back your lands, your freedom, and your very safety!”

The cold night air erupted into an agreeing uproar of bloodthirsty cheers.


	2. All Good Things...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A perfect night of romance is greeted by a tragic dawn when a bloodthirsty mob storms the manor.

As soon as her last piece of clothing fell to the floor, Angela collapsed back onto the bed with a delighted giggle. The plush blanketing cushioned her fall, and her laughter was soon joined by Gabriel’s as he leaned forward to kiss her deeply. As soon as his lips met hers, the Witch hummed happily as her hands trailed along the Count’s toned arms and exposed back. Gently pulling him with her, Angela scooted further back onto the bed, continuing to give Gabriel soft kisses as wordless encouragement.

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest with excitement, and the Witch couldn’t deny the anticipation thrumming through her. Pulling back slightly, she smiled up at the Count, nuzzling her face against his own. This closeness, this intimacy, was something that she had daydreamed about in the privacy of her own mind, but had never thought she would actually experience. Now, though, the daydream was becoming a reality and it was far better than she could have ever imagined.

Gabriel had been careful to keep his actions slow and to let Angela set the pace of how quickly things moved along. He most assuredly wanted this, and had for quite some time. But Angela, his beloved Witch of the Wilds, was the one deciding on how things went for their first time together. Besides, with as receptive and inviting as she had been, Gabriel was definitely not left wanting.

Leaning down to steal another kiss from her full lips, the Count smirked a little when he felt Angela’s legs wrap around his waist. She raised her hips ever so slightly in wordless invitation, one of her hands caressing the side of Gabriel’s face. Not wanting to waste another second, the dark-haired Count deepened the kiss he was sharing with Angela before guiding himself into her.

The slick, wet heat that enveloped his firm length sent a shudder through his entire body, and elicited a low, guttural groan from the back of Gabriel’s throat. It was met with a soft gasp from Angela as he hilted himself fully into her, her fingertips digging in against his back gently. Breathing out a shaky sigh, Gabriel nuzzled the side of her pale face before kissing along her slender neck.

“You feel...absolutely divine,” he murmured reverently. Smiling when he heard Angela make a soft, pleased noise, Gabriel continued, emphasizing each endearing word with another kiss. “My clever, cunning, beautiful, stunning sorceress.”

“My Count...has such flattery for me,” Angela replied breathlessly with a smile.

Rolling her hips upwards to meet Gabriel’s, the blonde sorceress moaned audibly when he followed, and then repeated the action. This time, his hand gripped the soft curve of her backside, keeping their naked bodies pressed closely together. Gabriel continued to trail his kisses down Angela’s neck, and then along her chest. He continued to intersperse words of adoration and endearment in between the affections, sending thrills of heat and delight through the Witch.

As the Count began to set a slow, but promising pace, Angela pulled him back up for another kiss. This time there was a little more forcefulness behind it; a little more demand from the dark-haired man. Smiling knowingly, Angela arched her back and nodded quickly.

“That’s it,” she gasped. “More...more like that, my...dear Count Reyes.”

A growl purring from his throat, Gabriel began to pick up the pace a little. His grip on Angela’s backside grew a little firmer, and he felt her grow hotter against, and around him. The response notched up the growing tension deep in Gabriel’s core, pulling another groan from the back of his throat. The blonde sorceress was eagerly matching the pace that he was setting, her breathing becoming short, soft pants as she did so.

As Gabriel’s thrusts became stronger and more wanton, so did the promising tension coiling up inside Angela. Fully content to let him have control, the blonde clutched at his back as she kissed him over and over. The carnal heat and energy between them was practically palpable by this point, spurring new thrills of excitement through the Witch. She moaned audibly when Gabriel found a particularly sensitive spot, her nails briefly digging in against his tanned skin.

“Good?” the Count chuckled breathlessly, nipping teasingly at Angela’s neck before kissing where his teeth had grazed across.

“Mmhm!”

Making a short, pleased noise of acknowledgment, Gabriel rolled his hips firmly against Angela’s. He must have stroked the same spot within her, because the blonde sorceress didn’t even bother muffling her delighted cry this time. Instead, she arched her back sharply, pressing her full breasts against his chest before catching his lips in a searing kiss.

Groaning and holding Angela there, firmly against him, the Count gave into the carnal desire hammering through him and picked up the pace of his thrusts. The bed creaked softly underneath them, though it was hardly audible in the midst of their own contented moans. He was getting close, and, judging by her contented whimpers and growing heat, so was Angela.

“Gabriel…!”

The Count’s name had barely tumbled from her lips before the Witch felt her entire body begin to tense as her climax began to rapidly near. She pressed herself up against Gabriel, moaning loudly and nuzzling roughly against the side of his neck. Gasping his name once again, she clutched at his shoulders and rolled her hips eagerly.

“That’s it...my darling,” Gabriel coaxed, his voice a rough, heady whisper. “Say my name… Let me hear...your delight!”

Already on the precipice, the Count’s ushering pushed her over the edge, and Angela made a delighted cry as the tension within her peaked and then snapped free. She roughly caught Gabriel’s lips with her own, her body reflexively bucking as her senses dissolved into a wonderfully erotic mess. Her heart hammered in her chest as her pulse raced, the Witch keeping her thighs tightly locked around the Count’s waist as she rode out the throes of her climax.

Gabriel had barely had time to whisper to Angela before the rhythmic tension of her climax brought his own to its peak. The sudden surge of release elicited a short, rough cry from the back of his throat. One that he muffled against Angela’s lips when she kissed him. As his body tensed reflexively in the most gratifying of ways, the Count gasped and kissed the Witch once more as he lost himself fully and completely within her.

As the last waves of ecstasy ebbed from her, Angela relaxed back against the bed slightly. Gabriel was still lost in his own climax, though slowly beginning to come down from the peak. Returning the Count’s rough kisses as the tension faded from his body, the Witch caressed along the back of Gabriel’s neck. Finally, he collapsed forward, supporting himself on shaky forearms so as not to pin her underneath him.

Purring a tired but pleased moan, Angela combed her fingers delicately through Gabriel’s dark hair. A light sheen of sweat had settled on his skin, and his breathing was coming out in rough pants. Despite this, the Count was grinning contentedly, and then lifted his gaze to Angela’s. He leaned forward and kissed her again, this time gently and sweetly. Cupping her hands on the sides of his face, the Witch returned Gabriel’s affectionate gesture.

As his senses returned to him, Gabriel reluctantly pulled back before collapsing on his side against the plush bedding. Without hesitation, Angela rolled tiredly onto her side so that she was facing the Count, still favoring him with a soft smile. Gently, he pulled her close, kissing her forehead and nuzzling his face against her own.

“Perhaps we should arrange these meetings more often, hm?” Angela inquired lightly as she caressed the side of Gabriel’s face.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind.” After a moment, the Count managed to muster up a playful smirk. “I’ll even arrange dinner for each and every one of them.”

Angela’s giggle was quickly followed by a contented yawn, and she promptly snuggled up against Gabriel as he embraced her welcomingly. As he pulled the silk sheets and warm blankets over them, Angela looked up at with a sleepy but loving gaze.

“...my Count is such a gentleman,” she murmured with a smile.

“Yours and yours alone,” he replied tenderly.

* * *

As the first rays of sunlight crept through the windows, they wordlessly roused Count Reyes from his slumber. Dark brown eyes slowly opening, Gabriel frowned at the window. Dawn had come far too soon for his liking, and he was regretting now that he hadn’t bothered to pull the curtains down over the window.

Whatever disgruntlement he may have had was soon forgotten, though, when he felt a soft hand reach up and caress the side of his face. Gaze immediately going down to the Witch of the Wilds, Gabriel smiled warmly at her. She was just barely waking up, but already giving him a sleepy but adoring look.

“Good morning, my dearest,” he murmured, kissing her palm as it graced across his cheek. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than I have in ages,” she mumbled, smile widening. Then, upon noticing the sunlight beginning to peek over the horizon, the Witch propped herself up on her elbow, frowning at the window. “Unfortunately, it seems I must take my leave soon. It is better that I not get caught out in the daylight.”

“As much as I hate to see you go, I understand,” Count Reyes murmured, kissing the top of Angela’s head. “I wouldn’t want you to run into trouble on my account.”

“Though...I don’t think it would hurt to spend just a little more time together,” Angela said, cuddling up against Gabriel as she spoke.

“You certainly won’t get any argument from me.”

Hugging the blonde sorceress close, Gabriel held her pale, slender body against his own. One hand rested on the back of her head while the other massaged a slow, wide circle along her back. Smiling faintly when he felt her begin to relax against him, the Count snuck in a quick, gentle kiss to the side of her head before nuzzling his face against her blonde hair. As far as he was concerned, he would be content to stay like this with her for hours.

Eventually, though, the morning light became impossible to ignore and the two knew that they had to part ways. Despite their shared reluctance to do so, Angela promised to visit Gabriel another night in the near future. As they got dressed, they talked over plans to have her stay possibly multiple nights if their schedules ever allowed.

As he walked the Witch back to the balcony that she had arrived at, Count Reyes couldn’t help but feel a nagging sense that something was wrong. He couldn’t think of what it could possibly be, however. And it was a rather annoying feeling to be having during an otherwise idyllic morning. So he tried to dismiss it as best he could for the time being. He could worry over it once Angela had left.

Stepping out into the sunlight and picking her broom up from where she had left it the evening prior, the Witch turned back to Count Reyes. She leaned up and kissed him deeply, caressing the side of his face as she did so. He made a quiet noise of appreciation, clasping her hand in his own. When Angela pulled back, Gabriel kissed the top of her hand sweetly. He then hooked his index finger under her chin, drawing her gaze up to his own.

“Be safe, my darling Witch of the Wilds.”

“Always,” the blonde sorceress replied with a smile.

With that and an obvious air of reluctance, Angela grasped the handle of the broom and looked upwards. Just as she was about ready to take to the air, she could see something bright arc up into the morning sky. It wasn’t a star. Those had already faded along with the night. It was-

“Angela! Look out!”

Count Reyes suddenly yanked her out of the way just as the burning arrow embedded itself in the balcony. Briefly knocked off balance and stumbling back with a gasped cry, Angela clung to Gabriel’s jacket. She looked down at the arrow with wide eyes, fear already beginning to snake its way through her. She had waited too long.

“Get inside! Hurry!”

Panicked gaze snapping up Gabriel, Angela found a small sense of comfort in the fact that there wasn’t even a hint of fear on his features. Instead, Count Reyes was glowering at the burning arrow as he quickly backed them both off the balcony. He kept Angela close, pulling her back towards the relative safety that inside the manor provided.

Slamming the door shut behind them, Gabriel wasted no time in getting Angela away from the doorway. It was just in time, too, as the razor sharp tips of arrows suddenly erupted through the thick wood. Though she managed to stifle her scared cry, the Witch wasn’t able to hide the fact that panic now had a firm hold on her.

“It’s the people of Aldersbrunn. They… We need to get you out of here,” Count Reyes stated firmly. He glanced up and down the hallways, trying to think of another, safer way for the Witch to leave. Already he could hear the dull, impending noises of what sounded to be an approaching mob. “We don’t have a lot of time, but if we can get to the cellars, then-”

“But you-!”

“I’ll be fine,” Gabriel interrupted sharply. He grabbed Angela’s hands and tried to pull her along with him. When she resisted, the dark-haired man turned to give her an imploring look. “Do not argue. They’re getting closer by the second and I’m not about to let them hurt you. Trust me, Angela. Please.”

Looking up at the Count helplessly, the blonde sorceress finally nodded in reluctant agreement. Despite his words, she wasn’t about to leave him here to fend for himself. If the townsfolk of Aldersbrunn had indeed finally made good on their threats against her, then the Witch doubted they would be forgiving towards anyone who attempted to protect her.

She would just have to think of a way to convince Gabriel to come with her.

As the two raced down the hallway, the sound of glass breaking rang out from the floor below them. Grimacing, Gabriel hurriedly guided Angela to a narrow staircase that was expertly hidden along the wall panels. While not completely concealed, it could be easily missed by someone who didn’t know where to look. As the sound of the main doors being pummeled open, the Count could only hope that it would buy them enough time.

The two darted down the staircase as fast as they could, with Gabriel keeping Angela in front of him. Not only did it allow him to steady her if she ever stumbled, but it kept him between her and the mob. It was a fact that he was bitterly grateful for when he heard the main doors finally splinter and give way with a thunderous crash.

At the base of the staircase, the Count ushered the blonde sorceress to the right. The hallways were narrow and dark, obviously meant for such an escape and little else. Far towards the end of the narrow hall, Angela could see a few slim rays of daylight seeping through what had to be a cellar door. She glanced over her shoulder to Gabriel, worry written across her features. To the Count’s credit, his expression remained stern and unwavering, though the Witch could tell he was deeply concerned with the way things were playing out.

Upon reaching the cellar at the end of the hallway, Gabriel suddenly ducked off to one shadowy corner of the damp room. Angela was confused for just as long as it took for the dark-haired Count to return. Because when he stepped out of the murk, he was armed with his trademark twin firearms.

“...Gabriel.”

Lifting his gaze, Count Reyes tried to muster up a reassuring smile at the sound of how tiny Angela’s voice sounded.

“Hopefully I won’t need to use them,” he murmured.

Striding forward and up the cellar stairs, Gabriel pushed one of the cellar doors open with a grunt of effort. It creaked open and rained down a curtain of dust and dried leaves on the Count. Snorting and coughing, Gabriel shook his head and shoved the door open the rest of the way. He glanced around quickly, scanning for any immediate threats.

The dense foliage obscured most of his view, unfortunately, and as he stepped out into the cold morning air, Gabriel could only hope that it also provided cover for Angela’s escape. When there was no immediate reaction to his presence, the Count motioned for the blonde sorceress to follow. He could most definitely hear the mob, and they were unnervingly close judging by the noise. But they just needed a few more seconds to-

“Going somewhere?”

The icy voice made Angela freeze mid-step along the cellar stairs, and she looked up just in time to see Gabriel pivot sharply. His back was now to her, though he was discreetly holding his hand in a motion for her to stay put. Against her better judgment, the Witch remained where she was. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to for much longer.

Eyes narrowing, Count Reyes regarded the blond man in gleaming armor with a dark scowl. They weren’t from any of the neighboring lands, judging by their looks and odd accent. Nonetheless, they were undoubtedly one of the ringleaders of the mob that was now ransacking his manor. Between their smug grin and glinting sword blade, the blond man had the undeniable air of a man who had deemed themselves in charge.

“You know it is rather rude to show up to someone’s home unannounced and unwelcome,” Gabriel snapped back. “And I am particularly unappreciative of the fact that you and your little mob have decided to destroy my home in the process of inviting yourselves in.”

“We tried knocking.” Darrows sneered cruelly at Count Reyes. “But nobody answered.”

“You certainly didn’t give me much time to get to the door. I-”

“Enough chatter,” the paladin interrupted sharply. He then held out a hand, bouncing his sword with the other. “The Witch. Hand her over.”

“She already left.”

Cold dread had seeped into Angela’s heart, and she watched Gabriel with wide, blue eyes. He never once glanced down at her, never betrayed where she was hidden. But the Witch knew that they were cornered. Their chances of escaping the manor were near nonexistent by now.

“Oh? Is that so?” Chuckling dryly, the paladin tilted his head to the side, regarding Count Reyes with an almost bored look. “So you always exit through the cellar, then?”

“I do when a mob that’s been whipped up into a frenzy comes breaking in.”

For a long, tense moment, Darrows stared at Gabriel with an unreadable gaze. He then sighed audibly and straightened his posture. As he did so, the paladin lifted his sword up a little higher. Watching the blade and its wielder closely, Gabriel let his index finger slowly feather across the trigger of one of his guns. While he had no qualms or doubts of firing at the blond, Count Reyes couldn’t help but wonder about the integrity of the armor that the paladin was wearing. Was it capable of withstanding a shot this close?

“I’m going to ask politely one more time,” the paladin stated steely. “Give us the Witch of the Wilds.”

“Over my dead body,” Gabriel hissed murderously.

“That can be arranged.”

The paladin raised his hand before flicking it quickly towards Count Reyes. ...and nothing happened. The tension hung in the air until it faded into something almost akin to humor. Enough that the first hints of a smirk began to tug at one corner of Gabriel’s mouth and he scoffed derisively at the paladin.

“Can’t say I’m very impressed thus far.”

“...bloody villagers,” Darrows hissed. He huffed another sigh and rubbed his face with his free hand, tapping his sword blade against the back of his armored leg. From between his fingers, the blond regarded Count Reyes with cruel, green eyes. “Well, I’m certainly not one to disappoint. And if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

Readying himself for a charge, Gabriel took aim at the paladin. They had already taken a couple of paces forward, sword at the ready, though held at an odd angle for a slow charge. Nonetheless, if he could land a shot right at the neck or above…

A dull thud that felt like a punch to his shoulder suddenly knocked the Count off balance. He staggered back a step, briefly taken aback by the unexpected attack. As realization began to sink in that he’d been struck by something, Gabriel’s gaze fell down to his right shoulder. Embedded deeply into him was the splintery shaft of an arrow, blood already beginning to well up in a crimson ring on his white undershirt.

From her vantage point, the Witch had been unable to see the arrow itself, but she knew when Gabriel staggered that he’d been hit. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from calling out to him, voice snagging painfully in her throat. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way she could help him. Something. Anything. Even if it was a temporary spell of illusion, perhaps she could use it to buy them some time.

Whether it was the sight of the arrow or the fact that he felt the wooden shaft refuse to let his arm move that finally sent the first shockwave of pain through him, Count Reyes wasn’t sure. Even so, he managed to stifle his grimace when he reached up with his left hand and wrenched the arrow out. It tore the wound open, blood briefly pulsing from the injury before running down his chest and shirt.

“You really shouldn’t do that, you know.” Finding the paladin’s sarcasm more than just a little insulting, Count Reyes lifted an angry, incredulous gaze to the blond swordsman. Darrows simply shrugged, gaze never leaving the dark-skinned noble. “Just thought I would advise you of that.”

Not wanting to risk getting hit with another arrow from an unseen assailant, Gabriel took aim with the gun in his left hand. He’d have to let the shock of the injury to his right shoulder subside before he could properly use it.

“I wouldn’t-”

Giving the paladin no time to finish, Gabriel pulled the trigger. A flash of fire and smoke from the muzzle, accompanied by a deafening crack, erupted from the muzzle of the gun. Though Darrows ducked out of the way, Gabriel heard their snarl of pain and saw them clap a hand to their neck. Apparently he’d managed to, at the very least, wound them.

His small sense of victory was short-lived, however, as another arrow sailed through the air and stabbed deep into his right side. This time the pain was immediate, and Gabriel managed to only partially stifle the gasp that tore from his throat. He stumbled back, gaze briefly flicking to the foliage behind Darrows. He couldn’t see anything, but that wasn’t saying much. The dense flora concealed his attackers well.

By this point, the paladin had already recovered, and he was obviously none too pleased with Gabriel’s aggression. He lunged forward, sword blade coming down in a flashing arc. Swinging his gun upwards, the Count caught the edge of the blade against the barrel of his gun, stopping it from cutting him down. Sparks flew from the impact, spattering down on the two.

“That...was rather rude,” Darrows breathed, small rivulets of blood oozing from the neat cuts along the side of his neck.

“I certainly didn’t want to make things easy for you,” Gabriel chuckled hoarsely.

Green eyes narrowing, the paladin abruptly shoved the Count backwards, reaching down with a gloved hand to grab the arrow still embedded in Garbriel’s side. Wrenching it to an awkward angle, the swordsman then planted a solid kick to the Count’s midsection. The impact not only sent Gabriel reeling back, but it tore the arrow free from his body. Blood spurted from the open wound, dripping down his side and onto the ground.

Biting back a snarl of pain, Gabriel swung around with his other firearm and fired off another shot. At the close range, it struck Darrows squarely in the chest and knocked them backwards. The hot lead pinged audibly against the shining armor, leaving searing dents in the metal. Unfortunately, only a few of them managed to actually pierce the armor, but the shot itself did put some space between Gabriel and the swordsman.

Stumbling back, Gabriel braced himself on the doorway to the cellar. Wincing at the stabs of pain that now wracked his body, he slowly lifted his gaze. Staring back at him from the shadows with wide, sapphire eyes was Angela. At the sight of his wounds, she gasped audibly and began scrambling up the stairs towards him.

Forcing himself up, the dark-haired Count smiled helplessly at the blonde sorceress and shook his head. He grabbed the cellar door with a bloodied hand as he took a single step back. Pausing for a brief moment in disbelief, Angela gazed back at him pleadingly.

“Run.”

No sooner had he mouthed the word than Count Reyes felt another arrow stab into him. This time it embedded deep between his shoulder blades, sending shockwaves of fiery pain that nearly paralyzed him. Gritting his teeth, Gabriel slammed the cellar door shut, pulling a massive, wooden beam down over the doors to effectively lock thim. As much as it hurt his heart to do so, Gabriel was grimly grateful that the creaking hinges and sound of the impact drown out Angela’s cry out to him.


	3. ...Shall Come to an End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though the Witch of the Wilds manages to escape the mob, it is not without a terrible cost. One that, with a little bit of magic and the help of a mad scientist, she refuses to pay.

As she frantically backtracked down the hallway and up the staircase Count Reyes had led them both down, Angela tried to collect her thoughts. Her attempts to open the cellar door had been in vain, serving only to cover her in dust. But the sounds of Gabriel fighting against a rising number of foes had been all the convincing that Angela had needed to try and find another way to him.

Nearing the entrance back to the main hallway, the Witch slowed her pace. For a brief moment, she held her breath, trying to hear if the mob was anywhere nearby. While she had faith in her ability to hold off the attackers long enough for her to escape, Angela didn’t want to waste time fighting them. Not when Gabriel’s life was on the line.

Cautiously peeking out from her hiding spot in the doorway, the Witch glanced up the smoke-filled hallway. She didn’t know how far the fires had spread, nor did she want to stay around long enough to find out. She just had to get to Gabriel. Had to help him and get them both away from this chaos.

Seeing no immediate threats in the hall, Angela sprinted across the carpeted floors opposite of the sounds of the mob. All she needed was an exit. Then she could take to the air and get back to Gabriel’s side.

As she neared the door to the balcony, the Witch slowed her approach. Leaning towards the door, she strained to hear if there was anyone outside. Though it was difficult to tell, it didn’t sound as though there were any threats on the balcony.

But as soon as Angela threw open the door, she realized her assumption had been in error.

Immediately the Witch was greeted by two rather surprised looking guards, both of which were armed with sharp-looking spears. For a split second, the three exchanged bewildered glances. Despite their presence, it was obvious that the men had not been expecting Angela to appear. Then indignant rage took hold of the Witch of the Wilds and she slung a bolt of energy at the nearest guard.

As soon as the bolt struck, the unfortunate man was sent flying backwards...and right off the balcony. Their scream faded downwards into the chaos below, but Angela didn’t waste any time. She couldn’t afford to. _ Gabriel _ couldn’t afford for her to. So, with another quickly recited incantation, the Witch threw another bolt of energy at the second guard.

They had been anticipating the attack, however, and deftly dodged out of the way before charging straight at Angela, spear at the ready. Momentarily taken aback, the blonde sorceress promptly readied herself. Though she was armed only with her broom, it would have to work.

With a snarl and a curse, the man swung his spear down in an arc towards Angela. She quickly sidestepped out of the way before taking firm hold of her broom and swatting it directly across the man’s head. It struck with a dull thud, but was enough to make the guard stagger backwards. Clutching at his head and groaning, the guard fumbled with his spear, trying to ready it once again.

The Witch of the Wilds had no intentions of letting him do so, however.

Promptly reciting the memorized words, Angela shot another bolt of energy towards the guard. This time it struck, and the man was sent tumbling backwards off the balcony. His scream brought the sorceress little satisfaction, but at least now she could get airborne.

Hurriedly mounting her broom, Angela shot upwards into the smoky morning air. As soon as she was able, she glanced downwards...and promptly wished that she hadn’t.

The entire manor was surrounded and burning. Its once dark majesty completely defiled and slowly succumbing to the flames. Not wanting to get caught in the inferno they had created, the mob had begun to retreat from the manor. Though, judging by the sight of them carrying armfuls of assorted items, they did not do so without first robbing the place.

Sapphire eyes narrowing in cold fury, the Witch forced her gaze away. Such items could be replaced. Count Gabriel Reyes, however, could not. So, reminding herself of that fact, Angela flew as quickly as she could back towards where she guessed the cellar entrance was.

But the smoke and ash proved to be a frustrating hindrance. They obscured the Witch’s vision and burned at her eyes and lungs. Nevertheless, Angela refused to give up. She couldn’t.

Continuing to frantically fly around the manor, the Witch scoured the grounds below her and searched for any signs of Count Reyes. Though she could see armed villagers and ruins of the manor below her, Angela still saw no signs of Gabriel. But just as her desperation was beginning to become near overwhelming, a glint of armor caught the Witch’s attention.

Stopping mid-flight, the blonde sorceress turned to the direction of the gleam that had caught her eye. It was the paladin. And though the sight of him made the witch’s blood boil, the fact that he was walking away from the manor gave her a direction to head. She just hoped that she wasn’t too late, because the sight of the paladin still standing sent a stab of dread straight through her core.

Flitting in and out of clouds of ash and smoke in an attempt to conceal her descent, Angela dove down to where she had seen the paladin walking away from. As much as she desperately wanted to simply plummet straight to the ground, the witch knew that doing so would catch unwanted attention. Finally, though, she neared a familiar passage, and at the end she could see the cellar doors. Though bloodied, they were absent of anyone’s presence, which inspired a little thread of hope within the witch’s heart.

“Thought...thought I told you to run.”

The rough, wheezed statement immediately dashed whatever hope had started to blossom, and Angela pivoted quickly to face its source. The sight that greeted her renewed the cold dread by tenfold, and she couldn’t help the small, horrified gasp that escaped her throat.

Crumpled back against the cold, stone wall of the manor was Count Reyes. Littered around him was the corpses of those that he had managed to slay before he had ultimately fallen. His shirt was now more dark crimson than white, with some of the more grievous injuries visible under the torn fabric. A couple of broken arrow shafts still protruded from his chest, and a deep gash had been cut across Gabriel’s throat. Despite all this, he still managed to muster up a weak smile whenever Angela darted over to him.

“Gabriel,” the Witch whispered as she knelt down in front of the Count. Her throat felt tight and her heart had set a panicked pace in her chest. Reaching out, Angela gingerly brushed a stray lock of hair from Gabriel’s face, letting her hand then rest just barely against his cheek. “...what did they do to you?”

“Eh, you should...see the other g-” A gurgled cough cut Gabriel off, blood rising to his lips as he winced visibly. Pain was a constant sensation for him now, though a numbing chill had started to slowly work its way through him.

“Sh, sh… Don’t talk,” Angela chided gently. She looked over the numerous wounds marring Gabriel’s body, her thoughts racing through her head. She had to do something. Had to get him to someplace safe. So, even though she dreaded the answer, Angela lifted her imploring gaze back to Gabriel’s. “Can you walk…?”

Though he took a moment to consider the question, and even tried to push himself up to his feet, a fresh new shock of pain quickly knocked Gabriel back down. Grimacing and gasping through gritted teeth, the Count shook his head. Alarmed by the reaction, Angela nodded and quickly set her trembling hands on the sides of Gabriel’s face in a meek attempt to steady him.

“Okay, okay. Don’t-” Her voice briefly snagged in her throat, and it took the blonde sorceress a second to compose herself. Tears were beginning to burn at her sapphire eyes, but she forced her voice to be as steady as possible. “Don’t move. We can’t risk making your wounds worse.”

“I think...I think we’re a little...beyond that now,” Gabriel groaned as he weakly forced himself to sit up a little straighter. Despite the pain that clawed at his broken body, the Count forced a smile. “Don’t you?”

“No!” Angela objected sharply, shaking her head even though she knew it was a blatant lie. “No! I’m not-!” Again her voice caught in her throat as a sob choked the words off, and the Witch hung her head as a crushing sense of helplessness fell down on her. “I’m not...losing you, Gabriel. I...can’t.”

“I’m not...going anywhere,” the Count chuckled weakly. His smile was quickly replaced with concern when he saw the first tears slip down Angela’s pale face. With a shaky hand, he hooked his index finger under the blonde’s chin to gently pull her gaze back up to his own. And he couldn’t help but grimly note that his vision was beginning to blur. “...don’t cry. You know...I’ve always...been yours.”

The words brought both a sharp sob from Angela’s throat and a sad smile to her face. She grasped Gabriel’s hand tightly, nuzzling her face against his palm. Tears slipped freely from her eyes now, but her thoughts were still racing as she tried to think of something, _ anything _, that she could do. Her statement hadn’t been some sort of dramatic outburst. She truly didn’t want to lose Gabriel. Not like this. He had been one of the very, very few that she could call a friend.

...and the only one she had ever loved.

“And I yours,” Angela whispered as she guided Gabriel’s hand to cup her cheek.

For a moment, surprise managed to cut through the pain and Count Reyes blinked at the Witch of the Wilds in mute shock. Then realization sunk in and brought with it a warm and mercifully soothing sense of comfort. It provided a brief reprieve from the agony that had engulfed him completely and brought a weak but sincere smile to Gabriel’s face.

And even when the moment passed and the pain returned full force, Gabriel’s smile never faded. With his other hand and the last bits of strength that he had left, he reached out to Angela and beckoned her closer.

“Come...here,” he wheezed, voice now reduced to a harsh rasp. “...please.”

Though another sharp sob tore from the back of her throat and brought with it another bout of tears, Angela readily complied. Shuffling over so that she was at his side, the sorceress embraced the Count with welcoming arms when he moved to lean against her. Letting his head rest on her chest, Angela nuzzled the top of Gabriel’s head while hugging him as tightly as she dared. She continued to caress the side of his blood-smeared face with one hand, while the other reached down to gently take the Count’s now limp hand in her own.

“Please, don’t go,” Angela wept softly, knowing it was a futile statement.

“...never-” Another cough, this one much weaker and hoarser, briefly cut the Count off, but this time there was no pain to accompany it. The numbing chill had almost completely seeped through his body, replacing the pain with a sense of nothing. But Gabriel was determined to finish his sentence. “...never wanted to. But I...I’m glad to know...you’re safe.”

Sobbing and kissing the top of Gabriel’s head while continuing to try and comfort him as best she could, Angela sighed heavily and hugged the Count a little closer. It broke Gabriel’s heart to hear her so upset, and he tried his best to give her hand a weak, reassuring squeeze. But the numbing chill was settling into his core now, and Angela’s soft heartbeat was quickly becoming the only thing he could hear. The warmth of her skin easily countered the chill, and her embrace was so calming. So soothing.

Unable to help himself, Gabriel feebly nuzzled into Angela’s embrace and closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh.

Suddenly, an idea of equal parts promising and terrible managed to break through the Witch of the Wilds’ sorrow. Her tearstained eyes widened and she felt her heart begin to beat a little faster as the first hints of hope blossomed. Knowing that Gabriel’s time alive was quickly fading, Angela hurriedly cupped a hand on his cheek and guided his half-lidded gaze to her own.

“Gabriel,” she whispered breathlessly. “Gabriel, listen to me.”

“Mn…?”

“I...I can bring you back. I can bring you back to life,” the Witch of the Wilds explained, stumbling over her words in excited desperation. She bit down on her lip, then continued, though a little quieter. “...back to me.”

That was more than enough to get Gabriel to summon up the last bits of strength he had to open his eyes one last time. Though his breathing was little more than shallow heaves at this point, he forced a short, inquisitive noise from his torn throat. The Witch nodded, sniffling and trying to compose herself as quickly as she could.

“But… But you’d be different. You’d be...be like you are now. I can’t restore you, I’m sorry. I can only bring you back from-from-” Unable to say the word, Angela simply sobbed and kissed Gabriel’s forehead. He felt unnaturally cold, and she could only hope he had the strength to answer her. “But I need you to agree to me doing such a thing. I don’t want to do something so permanent to you that you don’t want. I...I don’t want you to regret it.”

Gazing up weakly at Angela, Gabriel could only hear a small portion of what she was saying. The rest was just a muffled noise drowned out by her heartbeat. But the words ‘back to me’ called out clearly to him, and the Count clung to them with what little consciousness he had left.

Never before had he met a being like Angela, the Witch of the Wilds. Her presence in his life had been an unexpected blessing. One that he had been quick to covet. But he had foolishly never realized just how precious Angela was to him. At least, until now.

So, summoning up the last reserves of strength that he had left in his dying body, Gabriel drew in a wheezed breath.

“I do.”

Despite knowing that the words spoken were, for now, Gabriel’s last, Angela couldn’t help but smile down sorrowfully yet adoringly at the Count. She combed back his ebony hair with a trembling hand before giving the side of his face a caress. Hearing Gabriel gasp out a weak chuckle, Angela leaned down and kissed him gently.

“Rest, my beloved, rest,” she whispered.

Though his death was inevitable and needed no coaxing, Count Reyes found it a little easier to close his eyes once again. He let himself relax into Angela’s arms, her soft touch soothing him into an eternal slumber. Then the numbing chill disappeared completely only to be replaced by a feeling of weightless warmth.

And so, finally, amidst the ruins of his home and in the arms of the Witch of the Wilds, Count Reyes was dead.

For a long moment, Angela could only stare down at Gabriel’s still body. As soon as he had become completely cold and limp, and she had heard the last breath escape his lungs, she knew that he was gone. Yet it still felt all too surreal for her mind, or heart, to fully comprehend.

But there was no time to waste. The longer she dawdled, the harder it would be for her to bring Count Reyes back from the dead. And this was one situation where the Witch of the Wilds was not willing to take any unnecessary risks.

With the utmost care, she lay Gabriel’s body back down and stepped away before casting a quick glamour spell to keep it hidden. While Angela doubted that anyone would care enough to actually come back for the Count’s body, she didn’t want to chance it. There was also the possibility of the paladin or one of the townsfolk wanting to use it as some sort of grim trophy.

Grimacing and shaking her head at the thought, the witch leapt back onto her broom and shot high into the air. The clouds welcomed her with a misty, cold embrace, but she paid it no heed. She knew that she wasn’t strong enough to move Gabriel’s body back to her home. At least, not safely so.

Thus, she was going to employ some help. They were quite the..._ eccentric _ scientist. One who had regularly bothered the Witch for assistance in furthering their experiments. Angela had been reluctant to give them very much, but now that proved to be in her benefit. Now she could make the scientist an offer that she highly doubted he would refuse.

* * *

As she neared the decrepit castle ruins that Dr. Junkenstein called home, the Witch of the WIlds couldn’t help but feel like the air got a little colder. She was certainly not one to shy away from the darker things of life. But Junkenstein was as unpredictable as he was eccentric. Angela half-expected the doorway to explode when she arrived.

Fortunately, no such thing happened as she strode into the musty castle. It was relatively quiet, with the dull hum of electricity the only real background noise. As she walked down the hallway, the Witch looked around for any signs of the scientist. When she saw none, Angela drew in a breath and began calling out for him.

“Junkenstein! Where are you!?” Turning around to ensure she was heard, the witch continued. “Junkenstein! Show yourself! We...need to talk.”

“Alroight, alroight! ‘m comin’! I ain’t deaf, y’know!”

Soon the familiar, uneven footfalls of Junkenstein could be heard echoing through the hallway. Within a few moments, he came quickly hobbling out of a side entrance to the main laboratory. While he was still wearing his white coat, his goggles were pushed up onto his forehead. At the moment, they were doing a fairly decent job of keeping his wild, untamed white hair back and out of his vision.

“Uh, wot’re you doin’ here?” he asked with a confused tilt of his head. Then he blinked and half-grinned at Angelal. “Not that ‘m complainin’, mind you.”

“I need your assistance,” the Witch replied flatly.

“My assistance?” Junkenstein repeated, the confusion returning. This time accompanied with a bit of surprise. “With wot?”

“Moving something.” Angela paused, unsure if she should tell Junkenstein exactly what she needed help in moving. Then again, the scientist was attempting to infuse life back into long dead _ pieces _ of bodies that had been stitched together. So a fully intact body should be nothing to him. “I need your help moving a body.”

Junkenstein’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and his crooked grin returned, this time with a bit more enthusiasm. He took a few steps closer to Angela, then, in a rare instance, straightened his posture while studying her closely. His stance was a bit off thanks to his peg leg, but that didn’t change the fact that Junkenstein was quite the tall man.

“Who’d you murder this time?” he snickered.

“I didn’t! He was taken from me!”

The outburst escaped Angela’s lips before she had a chance to even try and stop it. But it was sharp enough to catch Junkenstein off-guard. He leaned back, briefly taken aback, then noticed something about the Witch that made him frown in bewilderment. And, perhaps, a little bit of concern.

“You’ve been cryin’.”

“What?”

“Yer face,” Junkenstein murmured, motioning to the Witch.

Realizing that the ash and her tears had left grey tear streaks across her pale face, the Witch frowned and looked away. She roughly rubbed at her cheeks, trying to remove the evidence as best she could. She didn’t want to appear weak. Especially not now in front of Dr. Junkenstein.

Yet it seemed to soften the scientist’s demeanor towards her. At least, enough for her to notice.

“This ain’t some mistake o’ yours, is it?” he asked. “An’ definitely not one you want me takin’ off your hands.”

“I…” Trailing off for a moment, Angela sighed and then shook her head. “No. I most definitely do not want you taking them from me. I just need their body moved back to my place. I know you have the robotic servants that are strong enough to do so in a quick but efficient manner.”

“I do, yeah.” Then a smirk that the Witch had been expecting spread across Junkenstein’s features, though it was nowhere near as malicious as she had anticipated it would be. “An’ wot’s in it for me, then?”

Swallowing hard, the Witch of the Wilds held her head high before answering.

“Anything. Anything you want.”

Whatever smugness Junkenstein may have had immediately disappeared into an expression of wide-eyed astonishment. The man’s mouth even fell open a little before he managed to compose himself. Coughing and shaking his head, he then eyed the Witch narrowly.

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything.” Crossing her arms, knowing that precious time was ticking away, the Witch frowned at Junkenstein. “Are you going to assist me or not? I don’t have all the time in the world right now.”

“Roight, okay.” For a moment, Junkenstein appeared to be considering the offer. It didn’t take him very long. Soon his grin returned and he nodded to Angela. “Got yerself a deal.”

“Good. ...thank you. Gather up the servants that are in the best working order and be ready to go. We don’t have much time and I would like to begin the ritual at sunset.”

* * *

While she hadn’t been able to transport the robotic servants that Junkenstein owned, the Witch had been able to provide him a ride atop her broom. It was pretty cramped, but it certainly expedited the journey. Not to mention that Angela thought it would have been cruel to make Junkenstein walk the entire way.

“Whoa! The Count’s manor!?” Junkenstein cried in disbelief as soon as it came into view. Then he noticed the destruction and smoke plumes still rising from the once elegant structure. “...looks like the people of Aldersbrunn finally made good on all their grumblin’.”

The Witch merely nodded in reply. She was too busy scanning the area for any possible threats. She didn’t see any, which was definitely a good thing. Hopefully the townsfolk were content with the damage that they had wrought and decided to leave it at that.

As they neared the spot where she had left Gabriel’s body, the Witch slowed their approach. Coming to a stop, she hopped off the broom, much to Junkenstein’s confusion. Even so, he followed her obediently, with the small cadre of robot servants quickly finding a way to their master.

With a twist of her hand, the Witch dispelled the simple glamour spell. Fortunately, the Count’s body had been left undisturbed. While it still pained Angela to see him fallen, she reminded herself that it was only temporary. She just needed to get him back to her home.

“Oh…”

The softly spoken, single word utterance from Dr. Junkenstein was quite uncharacteristic. Enough that it made the Witch turn to face him. His gaze remained on the Count’s body, though, looking at it with a peculiar expression that the Witch had only seen once before.

Then Dr. Junkenstein looked to the Witch and nodded in what seemed to be a semblance of understanding.

“Think I get it now.”

“I doubt that you understand fully, but I do appreciate the thought,” the Witch replied remorsefully. She looked to the robotic servants expectantly, and when she spoke, her tone was firm. “Be careful with him.”

As though remembering something, Junkenstein suddenly sprang into action. Muttering to himself the entire time, he made some quick adjustments to the robots. He appeared to be completely engrossed in the procedures, and Angela certainly wasn’t going to interrupt him.

Then, appearing satisfied with his work, Junkenstein ushered the robotic servants into action. They quickly moved forward, with the biggest of them scooping up Gabriel’s body effortlessly. The other three formed what appeared to be a protective triangle around their compatriot. It was...oddly comforting to see, in a way.

“Good. Now then, should anything happen on the way back, your top priority is to ensure that he-” Stopping herself, the Witch had to clear her throat before she could continue. “That _ his body _ does not incur any more damage than it already has. And whatever you do, do _ not lose him _.”

Angela knew that she had made another verbal slip in referring to Gabriel’s body as ‘him’, but she couldn’t help herself. Not to mention, she felt that doing so offered a bit more credence to the gravity of the situation. The robots may not understand human emotion, but their master certainly did.

“Not to worry,” Junkenstein piped up. “Brought the bestest and the brightestest of ‘em. We’ll get yer Count back without a single scratch.” The scientist grimaced as the body was carried by him. “Not that I think you’d notice even if we did…”

Ignoring the comment, the Witch retrieved her broom and motioned for Junkenstein to follow. Already his robotic servants were heading towards her home, and they were making surprisingly good time doing so. The last thing that Angela wanted to have happen was the robots get to her home unsupervised. The mere thought of such a thing happening had her imagining them dropping the Count’s body off at the doorstop like a simple package for delivery.

* * *

Her home was so carefully hidden away that, fortunately, the Witch ended up having to guide the robotic servants the last bit to the door. Once they were inside, the one that had been carrying the Count’s body followed instructions well and placed the corpse atop the large table in the main room of the small home.

Satisfied that Gabriel’s body had been safely brought to her home without anyone noticing, the Witch turned to Junkenstein. She hoped that he wouldn’t be too upset with what she was about to tell him. While she fully intended to make good on her promise, sunset was fast approaching.

“I will return to your castle tomorrow night to uphold my end of the bargain,” she stated firmly, choosing her words carefully. “But for now I must attend to the current matter at hand. The longer I wait-”

“Harder it is to bring ‘em back with the heart ‘n mind they had,” Junkenstein interrupted. He smirked faintly. “I know.” Then their trademark, crooked grin returned and the scientist chuckled. “In that case, see you tomorrow night. Don’t be late!”

Before she could say anything further, Dr. Junkenstein was quickly ushering his robot servants out the door. He didn’t even take the time to bid good-bye. Though, despite that, Angela could appreciate the fact that Junkenstein had trusted her enough to leave without argument.

Turning to the table, the Witch hurriedly began carving sigils into the heavy wood. They were symbols she had long since memorized, but it still felt like she couldn’t draw them fast enough. But each detail needed to be perfect, otherwise the ritual could end up only partially working. Or, even worse, not working at all.

As the sunlight began to fade, Angela quickly gathered up a few candles. She set and lit them around the room before turning her attention back to the table. Working in the dark certainly wasn’t going to get anything accomplished.

After double-checking the sigils to ensure that they had been properly drawn out, the Witch delicately plucked up a small, double-edged dagger. She turned the athame over in her hand slowly, gazing at the sharp blade intently. Then, after a brief hesitation, she made a short, but deep, cut across her palm.

Wincing at the fiery pain that flashed across her hand, the Witch flexed her hand slowly to draw up the dark crimson that had oozed up from the cut. As soon as she was able, she dripped the blood into the first sigil. Then the second. And then the third.

Finally, with the sun completely disappearing from the horizon and her heart hammering in her chest, Angela placed her bloodied palm against Gabriel’s cold chest. She held it there for a long minute, murmuring a few words with closed eyes.

And...nothing happened.

Slowly opening her eyes and lifting her gaze, the Witch glanced over the Count’s body. It was still cold and unmoving in the grip of death. Desperation began to well up, and Angela looked around quickly, trying to discern if she had forgotten anything.

Suddenly and without any warning, a blinding flash of energy suddenly surged through the entire witch’s body before erupting with an ear-splitting crack of noise that sounded like thunder. It lifted the Witch up off her feet and hurled her back across the room. She crashed against the wall with a hard thud, sliding down to the floor as the few paintings on the wall clattered down around her.

The last thought that crossed her mind as consciousness faded from it was that such a thing was not supposed to happen.

“...gela?”

The voice that began to pull the Witch back to consciousness was a low, rough, and harsh-sounding one. Something cold briefly touched the side of her face before gingerly touching the side of her head. Which was throbbing with a heavy, unrelenting ache.

Making a soft whimper and grimacing at the pain in the back of her head, neck and shoulders, Angela forced her eyes open. Her thoughts were a jumbled, pain-blurred mess, and her vision, at the moment, wasn’t much better. But in the dim candlelight she could just barely make out the stark, shadow laden features of…

...Count Gabriel del Reyes.

He was knelt before her, still clad in his torn, blood and ash stained clothes. His once dark skin had taken on a deathly pallid color, and his once brown eyes now glowed an unholy crimson. But the expression on his face was that of sincere concern and worry.

“Angela? Can you hear me?”

For a moment, all the Witch could do was stare up at the Count blearily. Then realization cut through and an overjoyed smile spread across her lips. She lunged forward, ignoring the sharp jabs of pain that shot through her body with the motion, and grabbed Gabriel in a hug that was as tight as she could muster. Tears spilled unbidden from her eyes, but at least this time they were from relieved elation. Unable to find her voice, the Witch instead fervently kissed the side of the Count’s head, clinging to him as though he had been gone for centuries.

The sudden reaction caught the Count by surprise, and for a moment he was frozen, hands hovering just above the Witch’s back. But as soon as she kissed the side of his face, the icy cask broke and Gabriel embraced Angela as tightly as he dared. He could hear that she was crying, and did his best to try and soothe her. He whispered soft reassurances that he was indeed back with her while promising that he would never leave her again.

The two remained as such for quite some time, with the Count gently comforting the Witch as she clung to him. Finally, though, after a couple of attempts, Angela composed herself enough to lean back so as to look up at Gabriel. Though the pallor of death had settled upon his skin and his eyes still glowed an inhuman red, there was no mistaking that Count Reyes had been brought back from the dead. Not only that, and best of all, his mind and heart still seemed to be intact.

“Gabriel,” Angela whispered reverently, hand gracing across his jawline. Finally, she managed to muster up a small smile. “Welcome back.”

“You know I couldn’t stay away,” Gabriel replied with his characteristic grin.

After about an hour, both the Count and the Witch of the Wilds had managed to clean up the room enough that it was safe to walk around. Then Gabriel’s attention had turned to the state that his body was in. After finding a full length mirror in a small room of the house, he was able to fully see the extent of what the Witch’s work entailed.

Deep scars from both arrow and blade were readily visible on his pale body, and his voice now sounded more like an unearthly growl. Though, to him, the most unnerving part was the crimson glow that his eyes had taken on. It never completely faded, only dimming when his demeanor was calm.

“This...is what I was referring to when I said I wouldn’t be able to completely restore you.”

Hearing Angela’s voice, Gabriel turned to the doorway. She was obviously exhausted and leaned against the doorway, rubbing her arm slowly with her bandaged hand. Oddly enough, a defeated look was on her face, with her sapphire gaze downcast at the floor.

Both puzzled and concerned by her demeanor, the Count strode over and hooked his index finger under the Witch’s chin. Gently pulling her gaze up to his own, Gabriel tilted his head inquisitively. Though Angela managed small smile in response, it was a timid and worried one.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I wish-”

Gabriel’s lips catching her own cut Angela off, and she melted into the kiss with a contented sigh. Cautiously leaning up against the Count, she caressed the side of his face before smoothing back his hair. She couldn’t deny that it was a most exhilarating feeling to have him back in her arms. Even if she did feel notably guilty for being so selfish.

“Don’t apologize,” Gabriel chided gently, a ghost of a smile on his features. “I would sooner spend an eternity like this than to miss one day at your side.”

Unable to help the smile and blush that rose to her cheeks, the Witch leaned up and returned the gentle kiss.

“My Count is such a charming gentleman.”


End file.
